


The Strain of Living

by Sketchione



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cancer, Character Death, Chronic Pain, Forbidden Love, Gender-Neutral My Unit | Byleth, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Stolen Moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 08:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20690645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sketchione/pseuds/Sketchione
Summary: Modern AULysithea has been dying for as long as she can remember, the cancer eating away at her life span. Through the pain of her short, short life, she reflects on all the good she's managed to acheive. The Golden Deer meet up one last time to say goodbye.





	The Strain of Living

She didn’t need the heart rate monitor to tell her she was dying. She could feel it enough as it was. It had been happening for a while now, the tremor in her chest. An ache that was indescribably strong to someone who’d never had it but all too familiar to someone with it. Lysithea was past the point of caring but she sighed all the same.

_‘A contradiction in terms of course. There’s no one to ask with ‘it’ because no one lives that long.’ _

At 27 years of age, Lysithea von Ordelia was as good as gone. Her body wasting away in the hospital cot they’d put her on and the last remnants of the chemotherapy struggling to keep her cancer at bay had failed in their duty. It wasn’t their fault, they were just dumb chemicals doing their job after all.

No matter how much chemotherapy she’d gone through the tumours had refused to budge, and the breakaways had finally reached her heart.

_‘Dead within the day, that’s what everyone’s saying. It’s about time.’ _

Though it was only a week ago the doctors had given her their final (tearful in one of their cases) verdict she’d been in pain for much, much longer. Since as long as she could remember Lysithea knew she’d been different. Her breathing ached, her muscles ached, her _bones _ached. Everything was so much effort. She swore under her breath, doing her best to reach over to the bedside table for her water glass. The strain of just overcoming gravity itself was detrimental and she almost immediately gave up.

_‘Weak. Pathetic and weak.’ _

Her arms were just too short. Her growth was stunted, barely above 5 feet tall. Lysithea glanced down on instinct toward the end of the bed. She used to have two of them, just like everyone else. As a last ditch effort of her ‘treatment’, the lead surgeon, a stern but kind hearted man named Seteth, had theorised they could halt the cancer’s spread by using a mixture of experimental chemicals to flush the tumors into one of her extremities.

Her left foot ended up being the recipient and they’d amputated it as soon as clearance was given. It was a failure, and one Seteth had never forgiven himself for but Lysithea was grateful. It might not have saved her life but it had bought her a few weeks. Enough time to say goodbye to people properly and continue her own research.

At the tender age of 6, as soon as she was old enough to be aware of what the consequences of her condition were, Lysithea had put herself to work. She’d studied day in day out in, what eventually turned out to be, a futile effort to save herself. That hadn’t stopped her trying and by the age of 12 she’d contributed leaps and bounds in other fields of science.

A research Fellow by name of Professor Hanneman had quickly noticed the papers she was publishing via an online university and had taken her under his wing. Together they’d saved countless lives over the years but it was never enough. Lysithea herself was a lost cause from day one, though it was their unspoken rule to never say as much. He was a jolly man and she’d never wanted to bring him down. Hope is a tremendous yet cruel motivator after all.

Hanneman had passed on himself only last year, an old man when she’d first met him. It was her one regret she didn’t know him better, he was the only father figure she’d ever had. They were so similar, even if they were years apart: no family of which to speak, a passion for research, and partial to the odd peach sorbet. She missed him so much.

She’d never known her ‘real’ parents, just found one day at the orphanage steps. Lysithea never bothered finding out why they’d done it (though the answer was fairly obvious in her mind), why would she spend the time and effort searching for them when she could be working?

_‘Good for nothings. Even if they were alive they wouldn’t have been any help. I wouldn’t have wanted it either.’_

One of the last things Hanneman had done before he’d passed was to write Lysithea into his Last Will and Testament. Unlike herself who’d been named after the box of ‘Von Ordelia’s yummy gummy’s’ she’d been found in, it turned out Hanneman was actual nobility of some sort. Without any family of his own she’d gotten it all, enough money to pay for any treatment she could hope to receive. Again, in a matter of life and death where the odds were stacked against her to the point of indolence, a few extra months were much appreciated. Why it was just last week her proposal on a new method of silicene nanoweave synthesis would likely be used in the production of artificial lungs for years down the line. It was all worth it.

_‘It was all worth it.’_ She repeated, and allowed a rare, small smile to upturn the corner of her lips ever so slightly. The beep of the heart monitor wasn’t even that annoying anymore.

A knock at the door brought her back to her senses.

“You have a visitor, dear.”

“Send them in please, Flayn.” Seteth’s daughter, oh so youthful in appearance not unlike herself. She was a nurse here and one who everybody looked forward to seeing on account of how pure she was. A very rare quality amongst nurses. Lysithea could attest to that, having seen hundreds over the years.

“There’s my favorite shorty!”

“Stuff it, Claude.”

“Old habits die hard I guess, my bad.” Who else was going to show up first but the man himself? She’d put the message out into the group chat of people she actually cared about at 5am that morning and it was only 7.30 now. The fancy politician with the private jet was no doubt going to be first. Claude walked slowly over to the bed, surveying her with uncharacteristic solemnity. “Today’s the day, huh?”

“Yeah.” He said no words, placing his briefcase on the only remaining chair in the side room and crouched by the bed, grasping her hand lightly. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Lysithea gave him a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t go getting emotional on me. If you cry, I cry, and I’ll have to reach my water to replace the fluids. It hurts enough as it is without exerting myself.” Again, wordlessly, he easily brought the glass to her lips and allowed her to drink. When she was done he placed the glass gently down and spoke softly.

“In all my years of dreaming for a better future I’d always imagined you in it with me. Guess I was always the idealist?” He couldn’t stop the tear even if he wanted to and Lysithea wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“It’s why I love you,” she said, equally soft. “That baseless, pointless, _hopeless _optimism. It made you one of the most powerful politicians in Fódlan. You singlehandedly curbed the Almyran race war just by telling people to get along with clever incentives and reasoning. People in Duscur have equal rights now because of you. You’ve saved countless lives with words alone.”

“You weren’t among them.”

“We knew that and fell in love anyway.” They’d met over a decade ago at a conference for ‘Making a Difference for Future Generations’ and had stolen moments ever since. Both were far too young with far too little time to ever consider a marriage but it was the unspoken rumour of the years that the leader of the Leicester Alliance had fallen in love with a stranger. A nobody. She wasn’t a nobody to him. The other members of the ‘Golden Deer’, as Claude took to referring to it, knew it too.

Another knock and Claude straightened himself up. The voice waved him down again.

“It’s just me, you two. You don’t have to pretend for the sake of your public image.”

“Heya Hilda,” Claude called back, but not looking around. “You’re here sooner than expected. Travelling sounds like work, figured you’d be late.” The pink haired woman gave him a playful clip around the ear.

“Not all of us have private jets you know.” She plopped herself cross legged on the floor next to Lysithea. Her handbag, oversized as it was, made a loud ‘thunk’. Lysithea giggled and Hilda smiled, turning to concern when she began to cough at the effort.

“How’s the school?” She croaked. Claude had already gone to fetch more water.

“Not bad actually. New academic year is about to start and we’ve had more intake than ever!”

“I’m happy for you. Give those kids a better future.” Hilda had been in the same hospital as Lysithea when she was 14 and the latter 11, but in different wards. Still, they’d struck up a friendship as Hilda played a big sister role for the family Lysithea had never had, and promised to stay in touch even when they were out. 16 years later and Hilda ran her own school for kids with disabilities. She’d admitted spending time with Lysithea swayed her in that direction.

_‘Another small victory.’_

“My hair is definitely better now though. Gonna put that out there.”

“You think? I wouldn’t have guessed!” Lysithea’s haired used to be a dark brown sea of waves, almost black. Chemotherapy had bleached it near white, and that was before it had started to fall out in clumps. Now it stood uneven and patchy in contrast to Hilda’s preened look. She looked guilty for that. Like it was her fault in some way. Hilda reached into her bag and pulled out a small paper ornament.

“I can’t give you my hair but one of the kids in my class made you this boat hat out of newspaper when I explained what you were going through. He said it would help you cover it up. You don’t have to if you feel…” She paused.

“I love it. A simple solution to a simple problem,” Lysithea affirmed. “Oh to be young again.” Hilda smiled weakly, placing the hat delicately on her friend’s head.

“Yeah. Those were the days.”

Claude soon returned with more water, and two new people in tow.

“Turns out having a private jet doesn’t mean a lot if you’re already in the area.”

“Raphael! Leonie!”

“Hey everyone! Cool hat!” The two waved discordantly, but then again everything those two did was that to some degree. When Hanneman’s car had broken down at the side of the road, Raphael was the one to stop by despite the enormous flow of oncoming traffic. On their way to an experimental new treatment it was a lifesaver. A metaphorical one but still direly appreciated.

A brash but kind soul, he’d offered him and Lysithea a free meal in his restaurant after hearing of their destination. His little sister had had a scare a few years earlier and it resonated with him. They’d met Leonie there too, it was one of the only restaurants that side of Garreg Mach that would take her due to her habit of not paying the tabs. She’d kept her job vague but it was military of some kind. She’d been all over the world, undercover operations, the works. Despite her notoriety she managed to keep a low profile, which was all the more admirable.

_‘A suspicious civil servant with a shock of red hair and a drinking problem. If I had the time I could have wrote a novel about just that alone.’_

Raphael was careful not hurt her fragile body as he pulled her into a bear hug, Leonie giving her a playful bop on the shoulder.

“How’s the life?”

“It’s been better,” Lysithea said weakly, but her beaming smile spoke volumes more. “I’m just glad to have the Golden Deer around one last time.

“We’d have it no other way,” Claude confirmed. “We’re here for you.”

“All of us!” Raphael chimed. “The restaurant can run itself for a while.”

They settled into idle chitchat and the hours wore on, stories traded and lives lived. Experiences, mistakes, regrets, and joyed. People loved and people lost. Ignatz arrived early afternoon, having had to turn down a meeting with the head of Enbarr’s Institution of Fine Art just to make it. Lysithea was a little annoyed at that but he calmly reassured her she was more important. Besides, he’d said with a laugh:

“I’m the most popular artist contemporary around thanks to you, and they know there’s only one of me. They can wait.”

It delighted her to see the young man he’d become being so confident. He’d been a struggling street artist when they’d first met, quite by chance as well. On a whim she’d decided to buy a small canvas from him right before a conference with the head of House Blaiddyd’s researchers. One of them had taken such a shine to it he’d demanded to know who had created and that was that. From rags to riches, a true success story. His heart never was in academia no matter how much his parents tried to convince him. Lysithea was grateful to have had a hand in his rise.

_‘Another life made better in the short time of your own.’_

Marrianne came in just as the sky was starting to cloud over, accidentally shaking her sky blue umbrella over Hilda’s fancy new handbag. She quietly apologized but Hilda just brushed it off. Hilda would never usually do anything of the sort but her mood had taken a hit. She was always easily influenced by things around her whether she’d admit it or not and feeling the effects of the day the hardest.

She hadn’t left Lysithea’s side either, Claude on her other. Just like the old days. Old in her terms anyway. Marianne was composed on the outside but Lysithea knew better than to trust that. She may not have looked it but she was one of the foremost public speakers in all of Fódlan. She had later admitted to her that in her youth she would have given mice a run for their money as to who was quieter.

She was also an adept translator for the Bridgidine dialect which is how they’d gotten to know one and other. A potential lead had taken Lysithea to the blistering south where an independently funded lab was doing growth trials for a decay resistant fungus. Lysithea didn’t speak their language and they didn’t have the technical terminology for a concise delivery so in stepped Marianne. ‘The Blue Maiden’ she’d been come to known as on account of her serenity and blue bunned hairstyle.

“Good day to you all.” Only Lorenz addressed a room like that so it was no surprise who was last to arrive. “Work kept me, my apologies.”

“Don’t sweat it, take all the time you need.” Claude didn’t really try and hide his disdain for the political rivalry his associate embodied but kept it together for Lysithea. She appreciated his efforts. Lorenz Hellman Gloucestor was a very important person and would tell you so himself, so of course taking time out his busy schedule was an honor few could hope to live and see.

_‘Even in the little time I’ve had, no everyone gets to say they’ve had Senator Gloucester himself take time out.’ _

He was also involved in the administration of the online university Lysithea had published her numerous papers from and kept track of the numbers and charts. Of course he was surprised to learn his most valuable contributor was one small girl trying not to give into the darkness.

“Is that everyone, Sithy?” Hilda asked.

“Just a couple more. They’ll be here.”

It took another half an hour but arrive they did. First was Catherine, a legendary Olympian with medals in pretty much everything they had a category defined for. She was an orphan as well, and often contributed to the finances of the orphanage both her and Lysithea had grown up in. Lysithea had always been embarrassed but she looked up to the older woman like another big sister, a fact compounded by the fact they had the similar birthmarks on their shoulders. Catherine always found it endearing and played the role as much as she could. Fill up the hole that being abandoned on the street had left. There were no holes now.

“Thank you…all of you. You all came.” She was feeling ever so drained now and the sun was setting. Her lungs were hurting more than they ever had. The clouds from earlier gone, Lysithea was eternally grateful her window provided her a beautiful view of the burnt orange sky, turning to the bluest of blacks. The time was nearing, she could feel it and the others could too. Gathered around the tiny bed as best they could, she was so, so grateful this was how it ended. Everyone, and everything that had ever meant anything. She’d be seeing Hanneman soon too.

Some of the Golden Deer were letting the tears flow, no shame at all. Catherine in particular had to borrow a tissue off of Raphael to stem them. Others were more dignified but were dying on the inside such as Hilda. Lorenz had one his fancy handkerchiefs out. Ignatz was leaning heavily on Marianne. Claude was openly weeping, refusing to let go of her hand. The strength was leaving her own, she could barely feel him anymore.

The second, and last figure stood at the foot of the bed. They said no words but they didn’t have to. Her carer and teacher for most of her early years at the orphanage, Byleth, stood tall. Ever the stoic, they let a single tear fall to the bed, staining the covers.

“Say hello to Jeralt for me.”

“And me.” Leonie added tearfully.

“It’d be my honor.” Jeralt was a true hero to Fódlan, a war hero unmatched in skill and courage. Byleth’s father and Leonie’s commanding officer. “I’ll say hi, for both of you, okay?” Lysithea turned to face each and every one of them in succession.

“It’s been my privilege to have walked this earth the same as you. You’re all so…so…amazing.”

“You’re the amazing one, trust me.” Claude said, holding his voice as best he could. “You brought us all together and you’ve helped change our world for the better. I wish…” His voice caught. “I wish we had more time.” She patted him gently, barely a feather’s pressure.

“I’ve loved the time we’ve had. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” It was truly dark now, both inside and out. Lysithea’s body had fought long and hard but in the end it was all too much. Her friends gathered, a gentle breeze caressing her face, what more could she have? “I’ll see you all again. One day. Don’t forget me…please.”

“No one would ever be able to.” She wasn’t sure which one of them had said it but it no longer mattered. She knew any one of them could have and it brought joy to her now failed heart. The monitor had stopped, the beeping silent, and Lysithea closed her eyes for the final time. She was happy.

This has been the story of Lysithea von Ordelia, and this is how it ends.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes our happy endings are bittersweet. Sometimes we don't get one at all. 
> 
> The parallels of Lysithea's twin crests and a cancer were too much to ignore for me and it hit me where it hurts, so I had to write this.
> 
> Lysithea and Catherine sharing a crest is a birth mark in this story, thought it was a nice detail considering how nice their supports are.  
I love all the Golden Deer, in case it wasn't obvious. Their jobs are based on their game endings, and they deserve all our love!


End file.
